The Thorns of Death: The Beginning
by Haunted Scars
Summary: Alan is peacefully finishing up for the day at the Shinigami Dispatch Society when he gets an unexplained, and unexpected, pain in his wrists. He has no idea what's going on with him, and has no idea that the Thorns of Death are the cause.
1. Chapter 1

Alan Humphries sat at his desk, finishing up the days' paperwork. He ruffled his hair a bit with his hand, the stress of his job getting to him. For once, he was actually looking forward to the weekend-just some time to himself would be nice. He leaned back in his chair, shaking the hand he was writing with gently to loosen the muscles.

Without any warning, both of his wrists started to hurt excruciatingly. Alan grimaced and tried to massage them, but to no avail. The pain continued to get worse; it felt like his bones were breaking and his tendons snapping one by one. He sucked in a short breath, putting his head down on the table while holding his arms tightly to his chest. Alan scrunched his eyes shut and tried to concentrate on something else besides the sudden pain.

"Hey, Alan! Can I come in?" there was a knock and a voice at the door.

'I have to get a hold of myself...Come on, Alan...' he thought to himself as he sat up, the agony of the unknown hurting becoming worse as he began to move.

"You there, Alan?" the door opened slightly. A blond head came through the gap between the door and the frame.

"Eric-senpai..." Alan managed to say between short and silent gasps of breath.

"Ronald and I were wondering if you wanted to come out with us tonight-" he stepped into the room, worry flooding his face as soon as he got a closer look at his friend,"Alan, you're awfully pale. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Eric-senpai. Please don't worry about me," Alan said with a small, strained smile.

"You don't have to call me 'Eric-senpai', Alan," he tried to lighten the mood, "And you're not fine...William has been overworking you again, hasn't he? I'm going to throttle him before I leave-"

"No! No, Eric-senpai, it's nothing to do with overwork. William hasn't been overworking me. I'm just tired. I haven't been sleeping well lately," he stood.

Eric eyed Alan suspiciously, noticing the rigid way in which his friend was holding himself. His glasses were tilted, and he was holding his arms closely to his body.

"You go home. I'll take care of your paperwork," Eric offered.

"No, no. You said that you and Ronald were going out. Please don't ruin your Friday night on my behalf." Alan gave another small smile, but it soon turned into another grimace. He clenched his arms tighter to his body.

"Alan. You're not tired. Stressed maybe, but that's not it. Something's wrong. Please, tell me." Eric raised his brows in concern, taking a step closer to Alan's desk.

"Nothing's wrong! What's giving you that impression?" Alan smiled again, his brows lifted in pain and in concealment of whatever was happening to him.

"The way you just grimaced, and the way you're holding your arms so close to your body."

Eric slowly picked a pen off of Alan's desk, twirling it in his fingers before carefully tossing it towards Alan, but too far away for him to grab without stretching his hands out. Alan reached out instinctively, but the movement made him double over in distressed torture.

"I knew you were lying," Eric practically jumped over Alan's desk in order to comfort his associate. He moved Alan's chair closer to him, and eased him into it.

Alan gratefully took the chair, leaning his head against the back. Yet again, his eyes were scrunched and his lips formed a grimace. Little droplets of sweat beaded his forehead, running slowly down the sides of his face.

"What the hell is happening to you? Are you sick?" Eric whipped a handkerchief from his inside pocket and began dabbing Alan's forehead.

"I don't know, Eric-senpai. My wrists just hurt so, so much. I'm sure I just sprained them somehow. I'm just not used to pain, that's probably the reason why I'm pale..."

Eric nodded at what Alan was saying, unsure whether he was correct or if something else entirely was ailing him. He put the kerchief down on a pile of papers on the desk, and carefully rolled up Alan's sleeves. Eric looked at the pale wrists, searching for any sign of bruising. He lightly started pressing on the wrists, feeling for a sprain or a breakage. Alan took a deep breath as his fellow shinigami examined him.

The discomfort was slowly leaving Alan, and his breathing gradually returned to normal. Eric took notice and leaned back on the desk, grateful that Alan seemed to be recovering from...was it an attack of some sort?

"I don't care what you say in protest, I'm taking you home." Eric picked his handkerchief up, shoved it into his pocket, and helped Alan from the chair.

"You don't have to, Eric-senpai. I'm fine now. Thank you for your help." Alan bowed.

"Alan...cut it out with the 'Eric-senpai'! And I am bringing you home. I don't want anything to happen to you on the way there," he began blowing out the numerous candles that adorned the office.

"If you say so, senpai..." Alan smoothed down his chocolate-colored hair and straightened his glasses. He rolled down his sleeves and rubbed his hands over his suit, trying to remove the wrinkles as best he could.


	2. Chapter 2

Alan sat in a comfy maroon armchair, cuddling under a thick blanket with a mug of tea in his hands. He breathed in the steam, inhaling the delicious aroma of the different herbs and spices that made up the tea. Eric had forced him to drink the hot beverage and sit under the blanket, treating him completely like he was sick with the flu.

"Eric-senpai, I'm not sick! I'm fine!" Alan complained, causing his friend to smile and shake his head.

"What did I tell you about calling me senpai, Alan?" he joked as he shoved a pillow behind Alan's head.

"Eric-san, please. I'm taking up your start to the weekend; you wanted to go out with Ronald...I'm fine now! I'll put some hot stones on my wrists or something and go to bed. I'll be better in the morning. The soreness will go away."

As if the ailment that was afflicting Alan knew what he'd said, it spontaneously shot pain through his arms and towards his heart and lungs. Alan dropped his tea on the floor as he crumpled to the ground from his chair, the blanket becoming a tangled mess at his feet. He couldn't breathe and his heart began to hurt, as if someone were stabbing it with a thousand little needles.

Eric was at his side in less than a moment, pulling his body gently up to sitting position. He began to rub Alan's back tenderly with one hand, the other moving the hair from his friends' eyes. Alan began to choke on the air, clutching his chest with thin, pale fingers.

"Alan?"

All Eric could do was watch his companion suffer. He had no idea what to do; he grabbed Alan and pulled him into a tight embrace.

A huge sob erupted from Alan, tears flowing greatly down his cheeks. The pain was so intense it caused his head to spin, and the fact that he could not breathe? Alan was scared out of his mind, losing all thought that someone was with him and comforting him.

"I don't want to die alone! I've been alone enough in my life!" Alan said between furious gasps, "I don't have anyone...I need someone right now, please someone help!"

"Alan! Alan, I'm here! You're not alone! You're not going to die!" Eric said quickly, holding Alan closer to him. Alan sobbed even harder.

"The stars shining in the sky have been my only light...The only thing that was always there for me! I want to become someone's light! Eric, wherever you are...please..."

Alan cringed in pain one more time before his head fell into unconsciousness onto Eric's shoulder.

"Oh God, Alan..." Eric whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

Eric Slingby silently paced Alan's room, taking glances towards his ailing friend every now and then. Eric had carried Alan to his bed and made sure he was comfortable after the sudden attack of...of what, exactly? He sat down at the chair he had pulled to the side of the bed, fiddling with his black leather gloves as he did so.

Alan's room was small and simple. His bed was against one of the brown wooden walls, and he had placed a small nightstand next to it. A bookshelf was on the opposite wall, full of old and some new books. A small armchair was in front of the numerous reading materials, with a little table and candle on its left. Alan's wardrobe was near the door, a brown wood just like the rest of the room. Windows with white, long curtains decorated the right side of the bed.

On the nightstand lay a small candle, and a black covered book that Alan had been reading the night before. The title was "Memento Mori" by an anonymous author, translating to _'Remember You Shall Die'_. Eric picked up the book, and flipped through the pages, realizing it was a book of short stories about death and the supposed afterlife.

"Alan, what the hell are you reading this for? You're too kind and caring to be in the Shinigami Dispatch Society, let alone be reading this!" Eric muttered.

He tossed it lightly back to the table, and a small, rectangular piece of paper fluttered to the floor. Eric picked it up and flipped it over. It was a picture of a man, a small boy, and a woman. The woman was sitting in a chair with a blanket over her lap, and the two males were standing on either side of her. Eric looked closer at the young boy, realizing that it was Alan years previously.

"E-Eric? Eric-san?"

Eric dropped the photo on the nightstand, excitement and relief flooding through his body now that Alan was awake.

"Alan! How are you feeling? Are you alright?" Eric asked quickly, pushing himself up from the chair so that he could be closer to the other shinigami.

"Eric-san...I think I'm okay," Alan pushed the blankets off of himself and slowly put his legs over the side of the bed.

"What happened to you? Is there something you're not telling me?"

"No, no...I think I collapsed from exhaustion? I don't know..." He rubbed his forehead, glancing over towards the book.

"Are you sure?"

Alan nodded in reply and reached to the old photograph, wincing as he stretched out his arm. Eric raised his brows in concern, and made a silent offer to grab the picture. His friend shook his head.

"This is of my mother, father, and myself," Alan said as he adjusted his glasses and looked at the snapshot. Eric nodded and listened. "She died before this was taken."

Eric gave Alan a confused glance. "How could she have died before this was taken if she's right there with you in the photo?"

"It was common a few years ago for people to take pictures with their loved ones after they had passed away. It was so expensive to have a photograph taken, and my father wanted one last picture of mother. He insisted that this was done."

Eric slowly took the photo from Alan, and placed it back in the book. He sat down next to his friend and put his arm around him.

"It's going to be okay, Alan. I swear."

"After mother died, father never talked to me. I've been alone ever since."

"I know, Alan. I know."

"I don't want anyone to be in the position that I was in: desperately calling out for someone, but no one there to listen. Now that I really think of it, I was born alone. And alone I shall die; but Eric-san, why are tears running down my cheeks?"

Alan's body shook gently as he cried. Eric pulled Alan into a hug, stroking his head lightly to soothe and comfort.

"I can't help that you were born alone. But I swear to you, Alan. I swear to whatever God there is out there that you will not die alone. I will always be here for you, no matter what. Whatever happens to you, I will always be by your side. Always."

Alan looked up at Eric with watery eyes, trying to restrain his sob from escaping. He threw his arms around Eric's neck, and shook even harder as he bawled.


	4. Chapter 4

Alan stood in front of the Undertaker's shop, his hands trembling. He pushed his glasses farther up his nose, took a deep breath, and entered the building.

"Undertaker-senpai?" Alan cautiously asked, suspecting the older shinigami to appear from a coffin and scare him.

"Yes, Alan?" the Undertaker came by his side without a sound, and with his long fingernails traced the line of Alan's jaw.

"I'm sick, and I don't know what's wrong with me. I got these pains in my wrists at first, then I got a terrible pain in my chest."

The Undertaker's creepy smile instantly faded, and his hand automatically came down from Alan's face. He went to his desk, and motioned for Alan to follow. The Undertaker offered Alan a seat and some dog-bone shaped biscuits, both of which he declined.

"Tell me more about when this started happening. And what happens." The Undertaker sat behind his desk, leaning back so that a full shadow was cast over his face.

"I was at work, doing paperwork, and I got this awful pain in my wrists. It went away after a short while, but it was excruciating. I have never felt something worse in my life. I went home, and I got the pain again, except this time, it went all the way to what felt like my heart and lungs. I passed out. It's like I'm having some kind of attack. What's wrong with me, Undertaker-senpai?"

The Undertaker sighed, and seemed as though he was contemplating his next move. He opened a drawer of his desk and took out a book. He quickly opened it, scanned a page, and put it back. His frown grew even deeper and solemn.

"What is it, Undertaker-senpai?" Alan asked, innocent concern and worry on his face.

"You may want to sit down for this, Alan."

Alan took a seat, his heart pounding in his ears.

"Alan...What is afflicting you seems very much like...Well, like the Thorns of Death. You do know what that is, correct?"

Alan fell back in the chair, stunned. His green eyes began to tear, and his breath came in short gasps. The Undertaker was saying something, but he did not hear it. Thoughts were running through his head a million miles per second, blocking out everything else. His first thoughts of were how much time he would have left, and undeniable self-pity. Then he thought of Eric.

"Please...No...It can't be..."


	5. Chapter 5

Alan had left the Undertaker's shop moments previously, his feet dragging against the pavement as thoughts flooded his head. His eyes began to water as he realized that there was no cure for him, and that he _was_ going to die. He took in a ragged breath, and ducked his head down from view as tears ran down his cheeks.

He walked for miles, not caring where he would end up. Alan passed many people during this time, all happily going about the business of their daily lives. None of them how they were going to die, all assuming it would be much later on in their lifetimes and of old age. Only Alan was the one who knew he was going to die a slow, painful death.

His feet lead him to a small park and he took a seat below a tree. He pulled his knees to his chest, crossed his arms across them, and buried his head beneath his hands. Alan Humphries began to weep, not bothering to stifle his sobs; no one was around to hear them or care, anyway.

'How could I have the Thorns of Death? How? What did I do to the world to deserve this? I've always looked out for others and gone out of my way to help them. I'm not selfish! So why is this happening to me?' Alan thought, his body shaking even harder as he sobbed.

Alan sat up slowly and wiped his salty tears away with a gloved hand. He stood up, brushed dirt off of his suit, and headed to somewhere he had only been once before. Eric Slingby's residence.

He came across it in about an hour, getting lost in London's many alleys and back streets. Eric lived in an apartment in the middle-class part of the city, and Alan was hesitant on bothering his colleague. He went up the stairs to the front door, and let himself in and looked at the resident directory as a reminder. Alan went up another flight of stairs and found himself before Eric's door.

Alan's face was still red from crying, and his eyelids were swollen. He contemplated a second time whether he should bother his fellow shinigami, and came to a conclusion. He knocked. Alan heard footsteps and the unlocking of a bolt before the door opened.

"Alan? What are you doing here?" Eric paused and noticed the face of his friend, "What's wrong, Alan?"

Alan took a staggering step closer to Eric and planted his head on the awaiting shoulder. Eric jumped back a little in surprise, and was even more surprised as the younger man began to whimper and cry. He wrapped his strong arms around the weak, sad shinigami.

"Alan, what's wrong?" Eric asked again as he lead his associate into his apartment.

"Shi no Toge..." Alan whispered as Eric sat him down in a chair.


	6. Chapter 6

"Shi no Toge? You mean the Thorns of Death?" Eric asked, concern growing in his voice and on his face, which he carefully masked.

"Yes, Eric-san...The Thorns of Death." Alan managed to say between trembling breaths, his face in his hands.

"What about it...?"

Alan choked out more tears and sorrowful noises before he answered, "I-I have it, Eric-san. I have the Thorns of Death."

Eric dropped into a chair as if he had found out that he himself had the infamous disease. He ran a hand over his hair, unsure of what to say or do. If he showed weakness in front of Alan, what would that do for the unfortunate shinigami?

"Are you sure, Alan?" Eric asked slowly and softly.

"Ye-Yes. I went to see Undertaker-senpai. He-he told me."

"Alan..." Eric swiftly grabbed his companion and cradled him to his chest. The older shinigami's tears began to mix with those of the younger one. They grievously shook as one, their bodies holding each others close.

"Eric-san...I'm so scared of the future! What am I going to do?" Alan whispered into Eric's chest, his voice muffled.

"Not what _you_ are going to do, Alan. What are _we_ going to do?" Eric replied, his tears still coming, but slower. He could not show anymore fragility to the already fragile friend, "I'm not going to let you suffer through this alone. I'm not going to let a stupid disease take you away from me. You're my light and have been since the first time I met you. You're going to stay my light, and I will do anything it takes to keep you here with me."

Alan cried even harder, his heart exploding with happiness, but also the sadness that came from the hold of the disease. He curled his upper body closer to Eric, his head near the other one's stomach.

Eric awkwardly hugged Alan's back.

"I swear to you, Alan. I swear to that I will find a cure." Eric said quietly. He pulled Alan up, and thrust his lips against the brunette's.

Both Alan and Eric had been waiting for this moment for years, their love for each other blossoming every day like a flower. The way they felt for each other was always hidden from public view and from each other, but now they knew what the other was thinking. They were in love.

They gasped for air as they began to kiss harder, locking lips, and locking themselves together in eternity. Eric ripped his gloves off so he could feel the goosebumps that were forming on Alan's neck, and so he could feel the soft skin of the face of the one he loved. Alan tried to get as close as he could to the blonde, wanting to be held and reassured that he would never be alone again.

"E-Eric-san..." Alan panted, tears still running down his cheeks, "Eric-san...I love you so much!"

Alan tackled Eric into a hug, furiously crying. Eric kissed the side of his lover's head, and sighed a huge breath of relief. "I love you too, Alan. I always have."

Some miles away...

"What do you mean, he has the Thorns of Death?" William T. Spears asked the Undertaker, unsure if the old man was just fooling with him.

"I meant exactly what I said, lamb." the Undertaker replied in a _very_ annoyed tone, "You'll go easy on him, William. His body can't take as much stress as you're always so very willing to hand out."

William's brows contorted in anger at the insult. The Undertaker left without another word, leaving Spears at his desk at the Shinigami Dispatch Society office. Out of all of the people he worked with, Alan always seemed the most tolerable, always doing his work correctly and turning in his paperwork on time. Poor thing. William sighed as he decided that he should reduce Alan's workload, shaking his head in disappointment as he realized _he _would have to take on the leftover work; that is, if he wanted it done correctly, which he did.


	7. Chapter 7

"Alan, please stay overnight. Your house is too far for you to walk to at this time of night. Okay?" Eric asked, playfully looking over the glasses perched on his nose.

"Alright, Eric-san..." Alan made a fake sigh, returning the playful gesture. He wasn't crying anymore, Eric had soothed him enough to steady his feelings for a little while.

Eric pulled Alan up from his chair and led him to the bedroom, glancing at the clock by the wall on his way. It was past midnight, and only now did he realize that he was exhausted. He squeezed Alan's hand, then wrapped his strong arms around his petite lover's waist.

"Sleep with me tonight." Eric whispered. He sat on his bed and gently yanked Alan onto his lap, kissing him lightly.

"Of course..."Alan breathed, taking his gloves off and throwing them onto the bedside table. He turned his head, reaching out for more kisses.

Eric took his suit jacket off, helping Alan once he was done. They both stood and Eric tenderly removed Alan's bolo-tie.

"Eric-san, what am I going to sleep in? I don't have any pajamas." Alan helped take off Eric's tie next, smiling up at his lover.

"Oh, you don't need anything..."

"But, Eric-san! That's so indecent!"

"Alright, alright...You can keep your underwear on..." Eric sighed, smiling.

Eric crawled into his bed, got comfortable, then patted the empty space next to him in welcome. Alan snuggled in next to the stronger shinigami, nuzzling his face into the others chest.

"I love you, Alan..." Eric said drowsily, his breath slowing slightly.

"Are you falling asleep, Eric?" Alan smiled, and continued when he saw that his love was slowly nodding off. Eric smirked. "Well, goodnight my love."

Eric kissed Alan one more time before exhaustion took him in its grasp. His breathing slowed and evened, the smirk still on his face. Alan looked at the sleeping figure, and almost broke into tears. Eric was going to lose him one day, no matter how hard he tried to save him. Alan worried about the Thorns of Death, and what Eric would do once he was gone forever.

Alan slowly got out of bed, trying not to disturb his one true love. He grabbed a robe that was hanging on the door and put it on, entering the other room to look out of the window once he was done. His heart hurt with sorrow and self pity and tears trickled down his cheeks. Snow was starting to fall, Alan looked at them as if he were greeting an old friend.

"Hello, again." he whispered. "This is going to be the last time I see you, I'm afraid. You see, I'm going to...I'm going to die."

The shinigami began to weep. He covered his mouth to stifle the sobs, and wiped his eyes with the robe sleeves. Alan began to choke, but not from the tears. Pain shot up his arms, and attacked his heart and lungs.

"Ach!" He clutched his chest, the oxygen in his lungs gone like it was being pumped out. He began to cough as he doubled over, whimpering when he hit the ground. Alan struggled for breath, his heart racing as he tried to take a breath of air. The pain he was feeling was one-thousand times more intense than anything he had ever felt before, including the first attack he had had.

"Eric...Eric-san..." he whispered, pleading in his head for his lover to come bounding through the bedroom door to save him.

Alan let out a yell as an excruciating convulsion twisted his body into fetal position. He accidentally knocked a small table over with his foot, the things on it falling on him. The bedroom door burst open and Eric, thinking the noise was from a burglar, swiftly moved into the room with his Death Scythe.

"Alan!" Eric dropped the weapon and ran to his lover.

Alan's body began to contort into different positions as the Thorns of Death become more prominent in his inside as every shock of pain made their course to his heart. Eric threw the miscellaneous items that had fallen on Alan over his shoulder, grabbing onto Alan's wrists after and pulling him up to his chest.

"Listen to my heartbeat, Alan. Just listen and concentrate on that, nothing else. Not the pain; just the steady beat of the heart that completely belongs to you."

Eric moved Alan's head to where his heart was, and held him there as he continued to convulse. Tears from both men met as they dripped onto the floor, their saltiness bonding to combine something so sweet.


	8. Chapter 8

Eric and Alan had fallen asleep on the floor together after the attack had passed. Eric had brought a blanket from the bedroom and covered the two up, putting a protective arm around Alan's waist. Alan slowly woke up, tears brimming on the edges of his eyes. He tried to glance at the shinigami behind him, but it was too far for him to strain his neck. Alan slowly and gently moved the arm from around him, and got to his feet.

Alan quickly went to the bedroom and put the suit that he had thrown into a pile the night before on. He fished in his pockets for a pen and some paper, finding it after a moment's search. He bent down at the nightstand and began to write:

_ My Dearest Eric, _

_ I can't stand having you share the pain I feel. I do not want to be a burden to you any longer. I feel as if I will ruin your life if I stay with you, and as much as it kills me to say this, I cannot take your love anymore. I love you with all of my heart, and more than I ever have loved anything in this world. I love you so much as to say that I do not want to hurt you anymore with my disease, and once I'm finally dead, I cannot bear to think that you will mourn my death forever. I need to do this to save you. I need to go away from everything I love, and the ones I care for. Please understand. I will love you until my last day on this unforgiving, unfair Earth. I will not let something I can't control be the death of me. Eric, I will love you forever and always be with you, no matter what happens._

_ Alan_

Alan wept as he wrote, his hand shaking and making his usually neat script almost illegible. He put his pen down after he finished and picked up Eric's suit from the ground. With trembling hands, he folded the clothes and placed them on the bed, placing the note on top. He left the bedroom and went to the apartment entrance, taking once last look at the man he loved and would always love. Alan Humphries silently left, his heart in his throat and his stomach in knots.

The Death God walked home, the early morning light shining down through the crevices between buildings. Tears dripped off of his cheeks at the thought of what he had done to Eric, and what he was about to do.

Alan Humphries entered his household and went straight to his bedroom. He picked up the Death Scythe he kept in the corner when not at work or in use, and clenched and unclenched his fists upon it. The thought lingered on his mind. Would he? Would he actually have enough bravery and courage to do the deed he so wanted to perform? To end all pain?

He took a deep breath, slowly moving the blade towards his chest. It wouldn't take much to do, only a little movement of the hand. That's all it took.

A sudden knock on the door took him by complete surprise. He quickly strode to the front door and opened it to William T. Spears, hiding the Death Scythe behind him.

"I'm sorry to bother you at home, Alan." William said, pushing his glasses up his nose in an official way.

"No, no...Come in, William-san." Alan gestured for his coworker to enter, and led him to his sitting room. William took a seat, crossed his legs, and leaned back in the chair.

"It has recently come to my attention that you have contracted Shi no Toge. Is this true?"

"Ye-yes." Alan nodded.

"I am prepared to reduce your workload if it is so needed. Are you alright with these terms?"

"I know I'm weak, William-san, but I am not too weak to continue my work at my normal pace. I don't want my workload reduced. Thank you for your consideration, though."

William nodded and rose from the chair. He was about to go to the door when Alan stopped him: "William-san?"

"Yes, Alan?" he turned.

"How did you find out about my illness?"

"Undertaker-san told me."

"I see." Alan hesitated before continuing with what he was going to say, "I know that we are just coworkers, but I need your advice more than anything right now."

"What is it, Alan? I have to be back at work very soon, so I don't have much time."

"I know, I know. I'll make it quick. If someone is in such a desperate situation as to resulting in suicide, should they do it?"

William adjusted his glasses again, taken aback by the question and very unsure of how he should reply. "Why are you asking this, Alan?"

"No reason...I'm sorry I bothered you with this. Please excuse my rudeness." Alan bowed.

"Alan, why do you want to commit suicide? It's not right. You have work to do at the Dispatch Society, and everyone would miss you. No one would gain anything if you were to kill yourself. People would miss you. You'd be hurting them more than anything else you could ever do. Please reconsider your options."

"Yes, William-san."

William let himself out, giving Alan a final look that almost had a reassuring smile on its face. Alan collapsed on the floor and began to cry.


	9. Chapter 9

An insistent pounding woke Alan from his self-pity. With teary eyes, he looked toward the door and got up so he could see who wanted him. He took a quick glance through the peephole: it was Eric on the other side, an angry and confused look on his face.

"Alan, I know you're in there. Let me in." Eric ceased in his pounding so he could be heard.

"I-I can't, Eric. It'd be better if you just left."

"Let me in before I break down this God damned door."

Alan slowly opened the door, which was violently thrown to the side as Eric barged in. He gathered the shorter man into his arms and squeezed him tightly.

"Why did you leave me that note, Alan? Why did you say that you were going to leave everyone you loved? Why, Alan?" Eric began to cry for himself for the first time in his life, not for anyone else.

"I don't want to see you suffer on my behalf. I can't do that to you."

"Nothing is going to make me suffer more than what you told me in the note. Nothing ever will compare. I don't want you to leave me, Alan. I'll go crazy without you."

Alan looked up at Eric's tear-stained face, his lips quivering with the tears he was holding back. He couldn't stand seeing Eric cry. Alan knew he had to make things better, for his heart was in shreds and so was Eric's. He wouldn't tell his love of what he was planning on doing, and just focus on the time they had left together. He had to be strong for whatever time he had left. Alan would not let the rest of his life be ruled by tears and sadness.

"I was flustered when I wrote that, and I didn't know what I was saying. I was just so overwhelmed with the attack...I'm sorry for saying those things, Eric." He reached up and kissed his lover gently on the lips before continuing, "I've come to a decision that I can't live in fear of the Thorns of Death. I can't let it ruin us or the time I have left with you."

Eric let out a single sob and repeatedly began kissing Alan's head. Alan's eyes watered as Eric clung to him, and he let out a deep, shaky sigh of relief as he realized that he would have Eric for the rest of his life.

_ Fin._


End file.
